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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25397866">Stormy Days</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serie11/pseuds/Serie11'>Serie11</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, During Timeskip (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Established Relationship, F/M, Marriage Proposal, Minor Injuries, Secret Relationship, Unexpected Marriage Proposal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:15:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,445</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25397866</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serie11/pseuds/Serie11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ingrid and Ashe get stranded on a lonely mountain during a storm, hidden feelings might be the only thing that will see them to morning.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Ingrid Brandl Galatea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Just Married Exchange 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stormy Days</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsolitaParvaPuella/gifts">InsolitaParvaPuella</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ashe eyes the growing storm clouds on the horizon with a touch of trepidation. They’re already far from the main army, and he doesn’t want anything to delay their return. His arm throbs steadily in time with his heartbeat, in a sling that Ingrid has hastily made up. The fact that they left an unexpected encounter with Imperial forces with just that injury between them is still making his head reel. When they’d first spotted those red banners and realised that they couldn’t outpace them, he’d thought they were going to die. Instead, Ingrid had danced through the air on her pegasus, more like an avenging angel than a creature made of flesh. He’d done his part too, picking stragglers off with his bow, but to do that he needed to be still, and that had left him vulnerable to the soldiers that had snuck up behind him. </p><p>It’s all over now. He won’t be able to shoot his bow for at least a week, and probably longer, but he can still hold an axe. They should be able to get back to the main army. He checks the horizon again. The clouds look like they’ve gotten blacker in just that moment of distraction. </p><p>He hears a soft whinny, and turns to see Ingrid touching down. It’s still strange to see her with her hair so short, even though he’d been the one to chop it all off for her. She pats the neck of her pegasus and comes to his side. </p><p>“Feeling alright?” </p><p>“Ready to go,” Ashe confirms. Ingrid scratches under the jaw of his wyvern, and he rumbles out a purr response, leaning into her touch and begging for more. A half smile graces Ingrid’s mouth for a moment, but it quickly fades. An ache spreads in his gut, far more painful than the sword wound on his arm. He wants to see her smile – she deserves to smile more often than she does. </p><p>“Okay,” Ingrid says. “The skies are clear for now, but we’ve been blown even more off course by that fight than we already were. I don’t think we’re going to get back to the main army before dark.” </p><p>“I don’t think so either,” Ashe agrees. “And look at those storm clouds. We’re going to have to fly fast if we’re going to outrun them.” </p><p>Ingrid’s face is still as she looks outwards. “Yes. Let’s go.” </p><p>She goes back to her pegasus, and Ashe makes the clucking sound at the back of his throat that tells his wyvern that they’re about to take off. He’s not the only one who was injured in the ambush – there’s a deep cleft in his wyvern’s back leg where he was too slow to kick an axeman away. The sooner they get back to camp, the better. </p><p>His wyvern grumbles at the loss of Ingrid’s attention, and even more at being told that they’re leaving. Even so, he lifts his head and shakes out his wings. They’re perched on the top of a hill, with one side completely windswept and free of foliage. It will make a good runway to take off on, since neither of them are in peak condition. </p><p>Ingrid sweeps out first, her pegasus throwing her head up wilfully, matching her rider. Ashe spurs his wyvern forward, and they slowly lumber down the hill, until wide wings are spread, and beat once, twice, three times, and then a powerful downwards push kicks them off the ground. Ashe leans down in the saddle, shifting his weight to make things as easy as possible. There’s a terrible headwind, and they push into it stubbornly, Ingrid’s white standard the only thing he can make himself focus on. </p><p>They’re skirting low over the vales of south western Faerghus, and he deliberately doesn’t look to see if he can recognise anything. He’s definitely been around here before, but never on wyvernback, and many years ago. With the war entering its fourth year now, he doesn’t have the luxury to think about his adoptive family, or Lord Lonato, or how he misses them all. The Kingdom needs him, and he’s always dreamed of being a knight. He’s always been one to hold to his word, and now is no time to start breaking that, especially with Ingrid depending on him. They have to get back to the main army with their intelligence – the Imperial troops that they ran into were a scouting party, just like they are, which means that there are definitely more Imperials out here, where there was supposed to be none. </p><p>He’d suggested they go scouting more as a distraction than anything else. The small army that they’re travelling with is headed towards the border, which is ever being pushed back, as reinforcements with supplies. Galatea territory is under the greatest strain now than it’s been in years, and Ashe had hoped that an afternoon to fly and enjoy the skies would be good for Ingrid, to get her away from some of the stress that she’s going through, to get her away from the letters that she keeps receiving from her father. And if that scouting mission turned into a picnic, well Ashe had come prepared, ready to help his partner relax and enjoy the sun. </p><p>He grits his teeth. Once again, the Imperial army has ruined everything. </p><p>A stronger gust of wind buffets him, and jolts his arm. He catches a cry of pain behind his teeth, but Ingrid is swooping in closer, enough so that if they yell they should be able to hear each other. </p><p>“Ashe!” she calls. “Are you hurt?” </p><p>“Not enough that we need to land,” he calls back. “We should hurry.” An invitation to head forward again, cutting the slipstream so his wyvern can follow more easily. </p><p>Ingrid lifts her head to survey the skies. The storm clouds are overhead now, and there’s a promise of lightning in their bellies. Ashe has never flown through a thunderstorm before, and he doesn’t want to start. Hopefully, they can reach the army before it starts. </p><p>He leans low and close along his wyvern’s neck, encouraging speed. His wyvern lets out a rumble of displeasure, and Ashe chuckles. “Me neither. But we have to make it back. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to spend any more time out here than we have to. And I promise when we get back that I’ll have some extra delicious dinner delivered, just for you. Have to keep your strength up to heal that wound, after all!” </p><p>His wyvern snorts, banking slightly to follow Ingrid. Ashe can barely hear himself talk – the wind has picked up even more. He’s glad they’re not higher. If it’s this bad close to the ground, he can’t think of what it would be like, up in the high skies. </p><p>That’s just about when he feels the first rain drops on his face. </p><p>They fly for another two minutes, but it’s clear that the rain isn’t going to stop, and the storm isn’t going to magically disappear. Ingrid starts strafing slightly from side to side, clearly looking for somewhere to land. Ashe peers out himself, even though it’s darker than it should be for late afternoon and he can’t really see anything. And he doesn’t want to recognise the landscape anyway. He takes a breath and lets himself trust Ingrid, to find a place for them to take shelter where they should be fine and where hopefully he won’t see anything that dredges up the painful past. </p><p>Finally, she begins to descend. Ashe directs his wyvern to follow, and soon enough they’re alighting in front of a dark scrape cut into the side of a cliff. Ashe doesn’t know how Ingrid knew it would go deeper, into a cavern that can hold all four of them, but he’s just going to thank the Goddess for this blessing and not think about it much further. </p><p>“Ashe?” Ingrid asks. “I think we should wait out the storm here.” </p><p>“Good idea,” he says. The first lightning strike lights up the cave for a moment, casting Ingrid’s profile into a sharp relief. “I don’t think this storm is going away anytime soon.” </p><p>Ingrid makes a considering noise that is nearly downed under the thunderclap that booms all around them, echoing horrifically in the small space. Ingrid’s pegasus rears, and Ingrid turns to her to calm her. They spend a few minutes untacking their mounts and securing them at the back of the cave, where hopefully they should be the furthest from the rain, wind, and thunder. </p><p>Ingrid is done before Ashe is, and helps take down his saddle, by which he means she does it for him. His arm has settled slightly, so it only hurts when he moves it, but that isn’t very helpful when he’s trying to untack a wyvern, something that is complicated enough on a sunny day in a warm stable. </p><p>When they’re done, they drag their bedding to the flattest part of the cave, and bundle it up together. </p><p>“There’s no chance of finding any dry firewood in this,” Ingrid says, looking out into the storm. It’s lashing the cliffside, but the narrow mouth of the cavern and the slight twist to the entrance means that they’re spared the majority of it. </p><p>“Lucky we have each other then,” Ashe says. </p><p>“Sit against the wall,” Ingrid tells him. “You shouldn’t move your arm.” </p><p>Ashe doesn’t like sleeping sitting up (it reminds him too much of his childhood) but Ingrid is right, and this cave is the last place he wants to argue with her. He helps arrange their combined blankets so that there’s a layer between them and the cold rock, and then gingerly settles in. Ingrid curls up on his good side, encouraging him to lean over and rest his head against her shoulder. </p><p>Another lightning strike slams into the earth outside, and Ashe sets his teeth. </p><p>“Rotten luck,” Ingrid murmurs. Ashe turns his head slightly, so he can breathe in the leather scent of her. When they’re under the scrutiny of the whole army they never have the chance to be close and alone like this. Ingrid is under too much scrutiny as Galatea’s heir, and he’s… him. They can write off a slight amount of closeness due to their school days, but that won’t stand if anyone finds them doing anything inappropriate. And Ingrid always does what’s appropriate. Ashe hasn’t kissed her in nearly a moon. </p><p>He tilts his head slightly to press his lips against her jaw, and the arm she has around his waist tightens slightly. </p><p>“We should talk about what we’re going to do when we reach the border,” Ingrid murmurs. </p><p>“I’m hurt and I’m bringing that up because I don’t want to deal with it right now,” Ashe says against her skin. “We’ve been talking about it for weeks. We have a plan. There’s nothing we can talk about now that will change what we’ve already been over a hundred times. And besides. I think Brenton will do whatever he wishes.” </p><p>She snorts derisively. “We <em>have </em>to keep thinking, in case there’s another way we can use these new troops.” She swallows. “They might be the last ones we get for a while.” </p><p>“We’ve talked about it,” he says. “Come on. Are we really going to come up with a crazy good idea in a cave? While I’m half delusional because of blood loss, and you’re tired?” </p><p>“You’re not delusional because of blood loss,” Ingrid immediately corrects him. “And I’m not tired.” Her stomach grumbles, protesting. Ingrid sighs, and uses her free hand to start rummaging around in Ashe’s picnic bag. He accepts the sandwich that he so carefully made this morning, and only feels slightly grumpy about having to eat it in a cave, with a sword wound, in the cold. Anyone would feel that way, right? He feels like it’s justified to be a little bit grumpy about the current circumstances. </p><p>“Thanks,” he says, because even if he is grumpy he still has his manners. </p><p>Ingrid nods. “No need for thanks between us.” </p><p>“It’s still good to be polite,” Ashe protests, even though his chest is warm. </p><p>Another lightning strike echoes over the valley, lighting up the cave. Ingrid is peering out, as if she could see through the storm to whatever she was fretting about. Probably how the army would be reacting to the storm, and how they would take the loss of their scouts and their only two flying soldiers. </p><p>“You’re always polite,” Ingrid murmurs. “I wish I could have your tact, sometimes.” </p><p>“Is this about Brenton?” Ashe asks wryly. “He <em>is </em>the commander of the army, you know. I kind of have to be polite to him.”</p><p>“Ugh!” Ingrid exclaims. “He’s such a prick. I can’t believe we have to follow his orders.” </p><p>“As compared to who?” Ashe asks, suddenly tired. Their Prince is gone. The great northern houses have their own problems to deal with, and most the southern houses have defected, or have been overtaken. Ingrid clenches her jaw. The only reason he can tell is because he feels the jump of the muscles in her neck from where he’s lying against her. </p><p>“It could have been me,” she mutters. “I know I’m still young compared to some of the generals, but that idiot is only half a year older than I am. They can’t use his age as a deciding factor. The only reason he was put in charge is because he’s a man, and because his father–” She cuts herself off. </p><p>“It’s not fair,” Ashe agrees. “They’re not as good as you. I know it, you know. They probably don’t know it, but only because their heads are up their asses.” </p><p>Ingrid sighs. “You always know what to say. It doesn’t help that Brenton was one of the people who my father tried to arrange to be my betrothed. He didn’t even recognise me!” </p><p>Ashe smiles, just a little. “Is it bad that I think that’s a bit funny?” </p><p>“At least one of us does,” Ingrid grumbles. “What, how many people is he trying to marry? Was I just one in a long line, to be forgotten so easily?” </p><p>“You probably don’t resemble the maiden that your father claims you are,” Ashe points out. </p><p>“That’s true,” Ingrid agrees. “We were covered in filth when we came across him that first time, weren’t we?” </p><p>“Just coming off the latest battlefield,” Ashe agrees. “We weren’t meant to meet up with him until the next day, but when he called out to us you felt like we had to introduce ourselves.” </p><p>“Except he was running his mouth about how we should behave. Ugh,” she shakes her head. “If we’re not going to talk about what we’re going to do when we reach the border, then we should talk about something other than Brenton. He annoys me to no end.” </p><p>He annoys Ashe too, but mostly just because he takes Ingrid’s skills for granted, hasn’t thanked her once in the last three weeks, and refuses to speak to Ashe just because he’s a commoner. There’s another reason too, that licks at the back of his mind but which he wouldn’t admit: Brenton was once in the running to marry Ingrid. Ashe has dreamed about such things before, but they’ve stayed as dreams. Ingrid is resigned to marrying someone after the war ends, who can bring their own fortune to the Galatea people to improve their lives. Ashe has nothing but himself, and with his past and his reputation, he doesn’t think even that amounts to much. </p><p>“What do you think you’ll do after the war?” Ingrid asks, wistful. Ashe doesn’t sneak a glance at her, because he’s warm where they’re pressed up together and since the cave is too dark to see in anyways, but he wishes he could. There’s a look that Ingrid gets when she’s talking about after the war that he loves to see – a softening to her expression, how her eyes look into the distance to a future that’s maybe not impossible. She’s too hard usually, fierce enough to slice himself open on. They all are, but maybe selfishly, he wants some safety for her, some sense of being able to be open without immediately having to slam back closed again. </p><p>“I don’t know,” he says. He knows what he wants – to be the one to go back to Galatea with Ingrid, to be by her side and do honest work with the land, with fruit trees and crops and to teach the children how to breathe life into something lifeless, instead of all this endless killing. “Find somewhere that’ll take me in. I don’t think I could just live by myself. Never have, never will, you know?” </p><p>There’s a beat of quiet. “You know, you can always come and live with me,” Ingrid says. “You’ll always be welcome if you need somewhere. Hey,” she huffs a little laugh, but there’s no humour in it. “You could even become a knight of Galatea. I suppose that I should have the power to give out knighthoods one day, right?” </p><p>Ashe wants to ask: wouldn’t your husband not want your former boyfriend by your side? What if I don’t want to be a knight if you can’t be one too? What if staying by your side without having you in my bed is too hard for me? What if we just never break up, and one day I marry you, and we can both be knights, because fuck it, why not? </p><p>“Ingrid,” he says, and then stops, because he doesn’t know what to say next that won’t turn into asking her to marry him. They’ve been together for almost three years now, and Ashe sees everything that he admires about a person in her. Sometimes he thinks that he’s ruined himself for any other relationship, because he doubts that there’s a person out there that will be able to live up the ideals of knighthood that he holds so close to his heart, and also love him back. </p><p>“Hm? You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. I know that the Kingdom has some bad memories for you. But if you need a place for your family, then when I’m in Galatea, you’re free to live there too.” </p><p>“You’re impossible,” he finally settles on. </p><p>“Huh? Why?” </p><p>He’s quiet for another few beats. Lightning lights up the cave again, and thunder follows a half second later. The storm is getting closer and closer, almost on top of them now. The rain is pouring down outside, but Ingrid picked their shelter well because little rain is getting inside. In their bedding, they’re warm and safe and in the dark he wants to admit his desires out to the world, as if saying them could change the reality that they were breathed into. </p><p>“Of course I would want to go back to Galatea with you,” he says. “Of course. There’s nothing else that I’d like more.” </p><p>“Oh,” Ingrid says. </p><p>“I just don’t know if… if it could ever happen,” he admits. “I don’t think your father would see me as a great potential match for you, and I don’t think he’d want me there if he ever found out about us. And I don’t think I could stand to see you married to someone else. I know that you have to, for your estate, but I’m not that strong, Ingrid. I don’t want to see you happy with someone else… or unhappy with someone else, either.” </p><p>Her arms tighten around him. “You shouldn’t think about things like that,” she scolds him. </p><p>“You’re the one who asked about what I’ll do when the war is over,” he points out. “I do think about it. I’ve always had to think about where the next meal is coming from, how I was going to get it… this is just an extension of that. I’m always thinking about the future. And I don’t think your future involves me.” </p><p>His words sit in the cave for a long while. The only sound that echoes around them is the rain from outside, and the shift as his wyvern settles into a more comfortable position. </p><p>“Are you trying to break up with me in a cave?” Ingrid asks doubtfully. </p><p>“No!” Ashe shakes his head as vigorously as he can manage. “I’m selfish. I want you for as long as I can. But when we started this, we both knew that it wasn’t going to be forever. But with the war, and our feelings, we decided that it would do for now.” </p><p>Ingrid sighs, a soft sound that he doesn’t like. She only gets dejected when she thinks about things that are out of her control, like her father’s repeated attempts to marry her off to the highest bidding noble that he can find. He hates that he is the one who made her feel this way, this time. </p><p>“You’re right that that’s what we said when we started. But Ashe, don’t you think that we… <em>work?” </em></p><p>“Of course,” he agrees. “I think that we’re good for each other, we cover for each other’s weaknesses, and we push each other to improve. We embody values that the other admires, and we care about each other. That’s a great partnership.” </p><p>“Exactly,” Ingrid says. “So why can’t we just continue with it?” </p><p>“I hope we will,” Ashe says. “I don’t think the war is going to end soon. And your father is going to have trouble marrying you off before the war ends, mostly because I think he knows you would say no while it’s still going on. So if we could just wait until then–”</p><p>“That’s not what I mean,” she interrupts him. “I meant… what about after?” </p><p>“What about it?” Ashe asks, a touch of bitterness creeping into his voice. “It’s like I said. You’re the heir to a great estate, and I’m just a thief who lucked out. We’re not meant for each other.” </p><p>“It’s not like you to say something like that,” she says. </p><p>“I’m just… trying to be realistic.” For both of them. It’s no good to pin unnecessary hope on the future. It’s better to just enjoy the time that they have together now. He’s learnt that, through hard lesson after hard lesson. He’s not about to test it with the best thing in his life. </p><p>“But what if it could be different,” Ingrid says. “What if–”</p><p>“It’s not,” he tells her. “I’m sorry, but it’s not.” </p><p>Another lightning strike lights up the cavern, and he’s looking just in time to catch the flare of her nose, the expression she always wears when she’s decided that she’s going to stare down something massive and she’s not going to take no for an answer. He’s seen it when she’s faced down overwhelming odds in the past, with him by her side. It’s strange to see it directed at him. </p><p>“Ashe,” she says, tasting out his name like this is the first time that she’s saying it. “Ashe. I don’t want what we have to end.” </p><p>“Ingrid,” he says, hesitantly, but she squeezes him and he falls silent. </p><p>“Even though it feels like the whole world is in hell right now, and even though we could die really any day, the quiet times that we spend together, when you help me fix my lances, when you show my how to shoot a bow even though I’m terrible at it but it means we can be close in front of everyone, when you make me my favourite food when we’re going out on a scouting mission, even though that means that you certainly didn’t get enough sleep last night – those are the things that I treasure more than anything else at the moment. You’re my best friend, and one of the best people that I know, and letting you get away would be the worst mistake of my life.” </p><p>“Ingrid,” he says, but she lifts a hand to press it over his mouth gently. </p><p>“Let me finish,” she chides him softly. “What I’m trying to say, is that I don’t want us to ever break up. Fuck my father! I don’t give a shit about what he’s trying to arrange for me, without my consent, to do something that I don’t want to do with a stranger. Not when I have someone like you by my side.” She takes a deep breath. “Ashe, do you want to marry me?” </p><p>He feels like his head is spinning, and this time it has nothing to do with the injury to his arm. It might have something to do with how Ingrid is blocking his nose along with his mouth. She takes her hand away and he sucks a breath in, almost reeling back with the shock of it. </p><p>“Ingrid,” he repeats again. “I…” </p><p>She swallows. “I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. Like I said before. Galatea will always be open to you if you want to reside there, whether or not we’re together. You–”</p><p>“Hush,” he tells her, laughing. “Of course I want to marry you. Of course I do.” </p><p>“Oh,” Ingrid says. They reshuffle themselves so they’re facing each other a little more, Ingrid always being careful not to jostle his arm. “Ashe, I mean it. It doesn’t have to be now, but I’d like to be betrothed to someone who, you know, I actually like.” </p><p>“I’d be honoured,” he manages to say through a very choked up throat. </p><p>“We should seal it with a kiss,” Ingrid suggests, and Ashe laughs, a watery sound. He might be crying a little bit. </p><p>“I thought that was when you get married.” </p><p>“Hey, it could be when you get engaged too. And no one else is here to tell us that we shouldn’t, so.” </p><p>“Well,” he says. “I can hardly say no to that.” </p><p>Her nose bumps against his cheek in the dark, and even though he can’t see her, he knows that she must look radiant, with a cheerful sparkle in her eyes, the corners of her mouth tilting up. He brushes his lips over hers to see if he’s right, and is delighted to find that she’s not smirking but outright grinning, in the biggest smile he’s ever felt from her. </p><p>It’s a shame that he can’t see it, he thinks vaguely as they kiss. But maybe it’s good – to have a goal, to make her smile like that, again, and again, and just one more time. </p><p>It’s cold in the cave, but he’s never felt warmer.</p><p> </p>
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